Poetry | Atlantic Palimpsest by Kerri ní Dochartaigh

-for Heaney and the Peace Bridge Grey and greying sky reflected in choppy body, as our matching heron performs his balancing act for all to see. The Donegal hills,...

The First Time They Lowered The Flags by Peter Ainsworth

The first time they lowered the flags The President bowed his head. The next time they placed flowers To mourn the dead. The time after that they held A...

Poetry | The Sleepers by Sylvia Plath

No map traces the street Where those two sleepers are. We have lost track of it. They lie as if under water In a blue, unchanging light, The French...

They Would Have All That by Mary Jean Chan

To sing the evening home, the lover prepares a pot of lentil stew – her phone lighting up to the news of love’s imminent arrival, imagining her lover’s...

Flash Fiction | Never Fall For That by Rebecca Lilly

"Clarify your intent," — Lama Chopra, our meditation teacher, rang the bell for us to sit — "the Reaper was once an old friend." My...

I Don’t Live in a Mountainous Country by Talin Tahajian

We look up, & beyond the maple trees & the brick steeples with weathervane roosters, clouds billow as sleeping monsters. Not the sort of billowing that clouds...

Snowbound by Michael O’Neill

Snowbound Carriages lit and still between the drifts ... With each flake it took on a new form, the city they seemed exiled from --- almost a sad,...

Review | The Neighbourhood by Hannah Lowe

Hannah Lowe’s fourth chapbook, The Neighbourhood, begins with a winding dotted line that travels from the first to the second page. The image continues...

Bright Celestial Objects by Rebecca Goss

After Alison Watt, ‘Venus’ (2015) Their backs against the grass, she felt a pull, as if the leaves on the trees were lodestones, the hairs on her skin...

Interview | Momtaza Mehri — Young People’s Laureate for London

Yesterday we spoke to artist and poet Momtaza Mehri, who has recently been announced as Young People’s Laureate for London, who will take over from poet and musician Caleb Femi in the role which was launched by Spread The Word Last Year.

Interview | Ben Aleshire

Ben Aleshire makes his living as a travelling poet, writing poems on his typewriter for whatever his readers can spare as a donation, a...

Review | Xeixa: Fourteen Catalan Poets

Xeixa: Fourteen Catalan Poets Tupelo Press, 2018, edited by Marlon L. Fick and Francisca Esteve The news in recent months has been splashed with images of...

October by Lydia Towsey

October Pizza bruschetta gold dress Rioja Autumn is here and Winter forgotten Walking through town arm in arm with a lover Moon in the sky and leaves good...

Interview | Raymond Antrobus

Raymond Antrobus is a poet, educator, curator, editor and investigator of missing sounds, who is a founding member of Chill Pill as well as the Keats...

His Bottom Lip by Rachel Long

Clitoral, like finding a small, hidden part of myself in someone else. Nerve-wet, fleshy - for a white guy, and stained between life-lines with red wine gone black. Only this...

That Boy by Robert Nazarene

  He was patient as a dead bird. He perched on the ledge of bottom and rocked.  He was the missed flight. He was silence calmed down. He loved...

Partita, 1968 by Hannah Lowe

Partita, 1968 When the tabla and double bass are really moving the raga in full swing I think of when I used to run for hours, for...

Competence by Anna Kahn

There is nothing in this room for those who have not learned to sing without thinking, who don’t know where the music fits in their bodies, how to...

At the Nursing Home by Leland James

—inside an old man vacant by the window Hold me occasionally for the light is fading and I can no longer see the hills that once rose...

Khuda by Manash Bhattacharjee

Many times I passed by your house On my way to see my grandmother I paused before the large iron gates Expecting to catch a glimpse of...

Coming Thunder by James McAskill

When we stole the eggs from the barn that June  you said we held life in our hands.  Untrue I said as I carried a near...
Poet in Delhi

Poet in Delhi by Manash Bhattacharjee

Can you rinse away this city that lasts like blood on the bitten tongue? ~ Agha Shahid Ali Delhi, where parrots lift the weight of tombs, poets offer daggers to deepen...

We Are The Cenotaphs by Aaron Fagan

Over a cup of Marco Polo And a bowl of bird's nest soup, Listening to the world as a whole Through the particular, I laugh Into the telephone...

Madness by Patrick Cash

There’s a stream by the Avon ward Where I stand to watch the water flow And unwind the whirlpools of my mind When it’s dark I let...

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